


of muggy nights, and unsaid words

by jonqhyns



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M, i indulge myself too much, shitty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonqhyns/pseuds/jonqhyns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>damn. mark's lucky he's cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of muggy nights, and unsaid words

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt "person A and person B stay up late, and person A decides to fake sleep, thinking it'll be interesting. person B believes they're alseep, and confesses their love for person A. how person A reacts is up to you."
> 
> also written to cure my year long writer's block and also to give myself motivation to continue my markson fic still in the works!! this was super quick and is probably rubbish bc i usually read my things like 24521385482 times before posting them but i'm too tired rn
> 
> please come yell at me on [tumblr](http://jonqhyns.tumblr.com/) !!!

jackson figures that coffee before bed probably wasn't that good an idea. he can feel the 2am mugginess in the air, made worse by the fact that his neck really hurts from being curved at an awkward angle against the armrest of his couch. mark is perched on the other end, their legs tangled together despite the heat, and he can tell from the fidgeting that mark is just as awake as he is.

the elder's been jumpy all night. he'd fidgeted throughout the movie, body restless and eyes darting, and stiffened when jackson had leaned up against him to grab the popcorn. jackson didn't try masking the hurt in his eyes. something is wrong, and mark isn't telling him. it's a serious violation of the bro code.

he knows unlike him, mark's never been one for words, but he figured that the time spent together would have built up enough trust between them for mark to tell him everything. right now he's beginning to wonder if he's thought too highly of himself, thinking that he had broken the walls that mark had painstakingly built around himself to keep everyone else out. a sour taste lingers on his tongue and fuck, he just really wants to sleep. thinking sucks balls. as he always says, no brain, no pain.

mark shifts again and jackson turns his face against the couch, pressing his nose into the fabric. the tension is suffocating, and so is the heat. the air conditioning has never chosen a better day to break down.

"jackson?" mark says softly, and jackson shuts his eyes tightly, feigning sleep. it's petty but he doesn't want to give in to mark, not now when he can still see the edgy look in mark's eyes burned into his memory.

but to his utter confusion and bewilderment (that he tries his best not to show on his fake sleeping face), mark gently shifts the younger's head onto his lap, jostling him a little and brushing jackson's sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"you always sleep so well," mark mutters, and jackson's heart feels like it's trembling, the thumping speeding up slightly. there was nothing new about his head in mark's lap, hell, he practically lives on it, but something about this time feels different, static charging through the air between them, speeding through jackson's veins and making his brain fuzzy. his skin burns from where mark's hand rests on his abdomen, and he can feel mark's other hand leaving burning trails across his cheeks. god, he hopes he isn't blushing.

mark's fingers skim across jackson's cheekbones in the gentlest of ways, and jackson can feel his gut clenching, most certainly not in anticipation. the air is thick with warmth and unsaid words, and jackson wants to sit up and ask what's wrong, but for some reason he stays still, body unmoving, breathing evening in what seems like sleep. mark falls for it easily enough.

"i'm sorry," he says, and jackson's confused. he wants nothing more than to talk but something tells him to wait for mark to continue, to wait for him to speak his mind when he thinks no one else is listening. he knows that the late nights bring out a mark different from the day, a mark that talks honestly and spills out more words than everyone had thought he was capable of, and it's only with this mark that he can find out what's wrong.

mark shifts slightly, and jackson can almost see him chewing on his bottom lip and picking off the dead skin the way he does when he's tense and on edge, when he has things to say but no words to say them. jackson focuses on his breathing, slow and heavy, like he's deep in sleep. mark needs to hurry the fuck up.

"i don't know how long i can keep this up," mark finally says, voice soft with the vulnerability that 2am brings, "every time i see you i feel like i'll explode. you can't seem to understand the concept of personal space, and it's driving me mad. i'm doing my best not to lean into your inviting touches, your warmth, not to fall even deeper than i already have, but you make it so difficult." there's frustration lining his voice now, and jackson's face is so warm, he feels like he's on fire. he doesn't know where this is going, his heart thumping so fast it's almost banging against his ribs and god, mark's fingers are now rubbing smooth circles on his tummy and-

"i think i like you," mark whispers, pressing a soft kiss against jackson's forehead, and that's all it takes for him to snap. he sits up abruptly and mark almost falls back with a surprised yell, but jackson grabs his wrists and pins them to the couch, leaning over mark to cage him in with all four limbs. mark's chest is heaving, eyes wide with realization and fear, hair mussed up and damn, jackson could just kiss him right now.

"i didn't-" mark begins, but jackson interrupts him.

"shut up," jackson advises, before melding their lips together in a kiss and he may have been a bit too rushed as their teeth collide with a clack but mark smells so good, body pliant and warm underneath jackson's, and he lets out a small whimper of surprise when jackson sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. mark tastes like the popcorn and ice cream they ate earlier, laced with something else jackson can't figure out, but he tastes almost heavenly as jackson licks into his mouth, groaning.

they pull apart with a wet sound, gasping and flames of want simmering at the pit of jackson's stomach.

"fuck," mark swears, "that hurt."

"it was even more painful listening to you try to squeeze out words," jackson snarks, "you could've just told me straight up 'hey jackson i think you're really hot and i want to suck face with you' but you decided to take the nicholas sparks way? you aren't even a lit major."

mark's cheeks bloom with a blush, and he flicks jackson's forehead in revenge. "i wasn't the thirsty asshole who was so eager that he slammed his teeth onto mine. and you weren't sleeping?"

jackson sits back on his heels, running his hands down mark's sides. "it was too hot to sleep," he grumbles, giving away his guilt in a slight pout, "and your fingers were distracting."

"oh," mark says, lips tugging up into a smirk, and jackson can acutely feel the heat in his cheeks running down south. damn. mark's lucky he's cute.

"shut up," jackson says as mark's arm loops around the back of his neck to pull him closer, eyes sparkling in amusement.

"make me," mark says, and that's the only invitation jackson needs before leaning down to claim mark's lips again.


End file.
